Drapple - The Story of Draco's Sixth Year
by Neferuaten
Summary: When Draco returns to Hogwarts for Sixth Year, he has a terrible secret. Though the attractive Pansy Parkinson is practically begging for his attention (and he's giving her it), he has another lover on his mind. A sweeter, tangier lover . . . Don't forget to check out my other stories! /s/8586058/1/The-Four
1. The Journey

Two months.  
Two, long, months.  
I had waited long enough.

Taking even myself by surprise I leapt onto the hogwarts express and found an empty compartment, hand over the flap of my satchel. No way was I going to lose her; I hadn't seen my beloved since July - my return home had meant a summer holiday of my mother's dominance. That is, when my her sister Bellatrix (or, 'Auntie Bella') wasn't in. In fact, it probably would have been worse if she had caught us together. No-one knows of our love; not even Goyle, nor Zabini; not even Pansy.  
I found an empty compartment and slid onto the seat, watching the people on the platform. Producing my wand, I flicked down all the blinds and locked the door. I was alone.

At least, that is how it would seem.

Her skin was smooth and cool as I stroked slowly all over her with my lips. It was pitch black, save a thin crack of light that filtered onto her shining body.

'Apple, my love,' I whispered. And I imagined that she whispered back. 'Draco . . .'

I shook myself. No; apples can't talk.  
Well, normal apples can't. Apple is something special. She's mine.

'Open up!' I was broken from my trance as I heard a knock on the door, followed by a muted muttering.  
'Alohomora!'  
Quickly, I stuffed Apple into my bag. I recognised that voice.

'Draco! Why were you locked up like this?' I looked up quizzically, blinded by the sudden brightness. Oh dear. This was going to be awkward.

'Pansy, why do you think?'

'I don't think, Draco,' she teased, sliding onto the seat next to me. She was followed by Zabini, who sat opposite us.

'And if I valued my face, I wouldn't ask,' I added for his benefit.

'Who said I was curious?' I ignored him and fixed my gaze on Pansy, who was gazing at me. When she saw that I had noticed, she looked away, blushing. I eyed her for a while. Pansy had long, black hair which framed her round face like folded wings. She was cute, alright - but not as cute as my gorgeous Apple.

The door slid open yet again and we were joined by slightly less . . . sophisticated . . . company. The newcomer was, as usual, stuffing his face and he didn't look too keen to share. 'Why the food, Goyle?' Zabini asked irritably. Pansy snickered.

'He eats away his troubles,' she sneered. I laughed loudly, and Goyle clenched his fists.

'Come, sit with us.' He did, cautious at first, but then more confidently. I continued my observation of Pansy. She smiled hesitantly, and a slow smile spread over my face, too. She slid off her coat. I traced her body with my eyes, drinking in the shape of her ample chest and curved waist. Zabini coughed.

'Do you want us to find another compartment?' He started to stand up; I waved him down.

'No. They'll be filled with mudbloods and blood-traitors by now. Stay in the clean section,' I mused, putting an arm around Pansy. Apple wouldn't know; apple was just a fruit, her conscience a figment of my vivid imagination. I squeezed Pansy closer to me, and heard the guard's whistle. We pulled out of the station labouredly.

'Would you like anything off the trolley, dears?' That fat witch who pushes round the refreshments rattled our door.

'Yeah,' Goyle muttered, loading the table with food. He forcefully placed a coin in the fat witch's hand. 'Now leave us alone.'

'That was well handled, Goyle,' Zabini complimented with a hint of mocking in his voice. But I wasn't listening. I was thinking.

'Hogwarts,' I sneered. 'What a pathetic excuse of a school. I'd pitch myself off the top of the astronomy tower if I thought I'd have to spend another 2 years here.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Pansy asked.

'Let's just say I can't see myself wasting my time in charms class next year.' Zabini sniggered. 'Amused, Blaise? We'll see who's just laughing in the end.'

I looked up at the ceiling and thought that I saw Zabini's bag move. Or maybe not.

As one hand massaged Pansy's shoulder slowly, I reached the other into my satchel, wrapping my fingers around my smooth, cool, spherical lover's bosom. It was time to change the subject.

'Do you remember when we went to the yule ball together, in fourth year?' I asked.

'Yes,' Pansy replied, fluttering her eyelashes. 'I remember. We danced until midnight, and then -'

'I remember too,' Zabini smirked. 'You got drunk from too much mead, and Professor Moody walked in on you making out in the roses.'

'Shut up, Blaise,' Pansy groaned. 'It wasn't funny. And I only had one mead . . . or maybe two. I don't know.'

'Pansy, it doesn't matter,' I muttered, stroking her hair. 'The thing is, if you could do that again; would you?'

I carefully withdrew hand from satchel and placed it on her far shoulder. She opened her eyes, lips slightly parted. Zabini looked down as I pulled Pansy towards me. Goyle hadn't even noticed - he was still eating fervently.

'Draco? Wha -' She didn't complete her sentence, because I kissed her on the mouth. Zabini gave me a thumbs up, mouth to me: _Nice one!_ I wasn't looking right at him, but I got the gist of his movements. I broke away from Pansy, but she pulled me back onto her.

'I've been invited for lunch with the new professor,' Zabini announced. 'So I have to go. I'll be back in a while.'

'Take Goyle with you, why don't you,' I said. 'We don't need him.'

'Okay. Goyle, we're going to lunch with Slughorn.' Goyle grunted indifferently, shoving food into his pockets, and they left.

'Now they've gone, I have something to show you,' I said, slowly pulling up my sleeve. She gasped.

'What does this mean?' For once, Pansy looked up at me, lost for words. 'Draco . . .'

'I'm replacing my father,' I said firmly. 'I am entering service with the Dark Lord.'

She paled. 'Will we still be together?'

'Together? Pansy, we were friends all through first year. I think you can cope without my love,' I teased, becoming suddenly very interested in her buttons. Not because I wanted to undo them, because I realised that I needed to rethink this a bit. The Dark Lord hated lovers. He scorned Bellatrix's advances and laughed at His married followers, and I didn't want to risk His wrath.

'But Draco . . .'

'We have this year, and the next. Who knows, maybe in the new society He will forge, we can create a dynasty of purebloods to rival the house of Black!'

'Yes,' she whispered. 'But if He fails?'

'He will _not _fail. I have been chosen to see that He does not.'

'I hope that you are right,' Pansy replied. I kissed her lightly on the forehead.

'I know that I am right. He has set me a task of highest honour.' Yes. He had, indeed.

'What?'

I closed my eyes. 'I can't say.' The compartment door slid open.

'Comin', Draco?' Goyle and Blaise turned and looked at me. Pansy stood; the train was slowing.

'You go on. I want to check something.' We had arrived at Hogsmeade, but I was still weary of the moving bag.

After the others were on the platform, I closed the blinds. Then I pointed my wand at the luggage rack. '_Petrificus Totalus!_' A heavy thud, and the most dreaded form ever anticipated appeared before me.

'Potter . . .' I stared angrily at the face that I hated so badly. 'This is for my father.' I stamped hard on his face, then swept his stupid invisibility cloak over the limp body. 'Enjoy your trip back to London,' I sneered, grabbing my satchel and disembarking onto the platform.

My breath was a mist before me as strode purposefully to the carriages. Since witnessing the death of many at the hands of the Dark Lord, I could now see what pulled them. I shivered at the thought that I had met death, but he had not taken me.

When I took my seat in the great hall, I had grim satisfaction - a feeling that Potter would not be in my way this year. I even kissed Pansy on the cheek. But my mood was soured when who appeared but Harry Potter?

When Dumbledore announced that Snape would be taking the post of DADA teacher, I just sat, my head in my hands. Now he would just have more power and access to me. In the summer, my stupid mother made him swear to protect me; now he'd be able to wield more control than ever and . . . I shook away the thought.

Dumbledore - he looked so strong. How could I complete the task set aside for me?

That evening, when I finally retired to my dormitory, apple was the subject of all my attention. I shivered at the feel of her cool skin, slowly scraped across it with my teeth.

I won't say what happened next.

END OF CHAPTER 1


	2. The First Day Back

It was a day of cold feelings.

I hurried to breakfast after a night of restless dreams. I had dreamed of the Dark Lord and the task he'd set me. Which I will not speak of.

'Draco!' Pansy was beckoning and I quickly tucked Apple into my satchel, whispering that it wouldn't be for long.

'You look great,' I said bitterly. She looked up; she could tell something was wrong.

'Draco, what is it?'

'I don't know,' I sighed. 'Tired.'

'Well, we have potions first, it's a new teacher! Apparently,' she lowered her voice, 'he taught the Dark Lord.'

I looked up. 'He did? This'll be interesting . . .'

'Yes, Miss -'

'Granger, sir.' That nerdy mudblood, Granger. Always top on everything. I impersonated her stupid keenness to answer every question to Zabini, who sniggered.

'This is amortia; the most powerful love potion in the world. It smells of whatever attracts the smeller . . .'

I scoffed loudly, but stopped myself when a dizzying aroma of sweetness hazily drifted up my nostrils. It was sharp, tangy, almost sickly. The scent of ripe apples. I shook my self away, still in slight shock, as Professor Slughorn proceeded to explain what each potion was.

'But sir - you haven't told us what's in that one yet!' an unknown girl protested.

'Ahhh, yes, this is felix felicis, more commonly known as -'

'Liquid Luck!' That Granger girl again. I looked at her coldly, but she didn't seem to notice my irritation.

'Excellent, Miss Granger! And this, my friends,' he addressed the entire class, 'is what I shall be giving away to the person who can brew me the most exceptional Draught of Living Death!'

I rushed to my bench alongside Zabini and Pansy. It would be a major health hazard for me to stand anywhere near Crabbe, or Goyle. Their potions were lethal.

I cursed as my bean jumped as I tried to cut it. Why had we been given such a pathetic potion? Cutting beans, indeed. I turned and almost cried out in shock, Potter was in my potions class, and who was that with him? Weasly. They must have arrived late. I cursed again.

'Here; let me do it.' Pansy's hand was over mine before I could protest and she slowly guided the knife through the bean. About an eighth of an ounce of juice spilled out; I heard a hiss and looked behind me. Potter was grinning, and his potion was giving off a silvery mist. I looked at mine and coughed at the clouds of black smoke. I slid my hand into my pocket anxiously, feeling the comforting sensation of Apple's skin on mine.

At the end of the lesson, Slughorn merely sniffed at my potion. 'Don't expect more than "A" on your NEWT, young sir,' he said darkly.

'Professor . . .' Potter stuck his hand up smugly, and Slughorn left Pansy's potion.

'Well _done_, Potter! You just earned yourself one tiny bottle of Felix Felicis!'

We all had to clap as Potter took the vial, grinning idiotically.

Creep.

* * *

Lunch in the great hall was a dismal affair. I poked my shepherd's pie and looked at the sky of swirling white clouds. Outside, a slow drizzle was falling.

'Draco?' Pansy looked at me anxiously.

'He's just pissed that he didn't get the prize,' Zabini whispered darkly. I spun round.

'You know what, Blaise? You're right.' I stood up, abandoning my plate. 'Just wait until my father hears about this.' I stormed out of the great hall, knocking so Hufflepuff first years into each other and toppling them like dominoes. But I didn't care.

The Dark Lord's task was one that I couldn't face. In my mind, I knew it. But in my heart, I didn't believe it.

Racing through the corridors, I sought an empty classroom in which I could be alone with Apple. I finally found one.

It was Firenze's classroom from last year, enchanted to seem to be the nighttime forest. I closed the door gently and sat on a treestump.

Apple was warm from my pocket and smooth as I stroked her against my face. I took a small bite, and let the piece rest on my tongue. Then I pulled out my wand.

'_Reparo_.' Apple was whole again, and I was grateful, not for the first time, of magic.

The moment was gone as the bell rang. I stood, straightening my tie, and stalked into the corridor.

END OF CHAPTER 2


End file.
